Evolution
by ShakespearesOtherSister
Summary: Moments and conversations and the development of a strong bond between two people with a lot in common. An AU take on before, during, and after TSR, told in three parts.
1. Part I: Approach

Ok, so I suppose I must disclaim

**Ok, so I suppose I must disclaim. This 'verse and its characters do not belong to me. I'm only borrowing them. Also, I know that the "missing moments of TSR" has become a popular subject. No infringement is intended to other authors, either.**

Part I: Approach

It started at the Western Air Temple, when she was still too blinded by anger and bitter disappointment to see things clearly. When everything seemed to be falling apart despite her best efforts to keep it together, and nothing seemed to be coming easy.

When on a rare quiet evening, Toph sat down next to her and said, "You're upset."

"I'm not upset," she responded, "Where did you get that idea?"

"Your pulse. It's all stuttery. Means you're upset about something." Toph folded her bare feet underneath her, and splayed her hands against the stone. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Katara set five bowls out in front of her and stirred the large pot of soup with a wave of her hand. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

"You're lying."

"So what?"

"So I'm trying to help here. You're upset. Let's talk about it. Isn't that what friends do?"

"I'd prefer for "friends" to help with dinner, but I'm assuming that's not going to happen."

Toph raised an eyebrow. "Does it ever?"

"No."

"Well, there you go then." Toph wrapped her arms around her knees. "Let's talk. This is about Sparky, isn't it?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know. The fact that whenever he comes within ten feet of you, your blood pressure skyrockets?"

She cast an unnoticed menacing glare in Toph's direction.

"He's a good teacher for Aang," she said, "But that doesn't mean I have to like him and that definitely doesn't mean I trust him. He's played this game before. I'm not buying it."

"Right," Toph said, "You've made that very clear, but I'm still having a little trouble understanding where this hatred is coming from."

"It's coming from reality. I'm being realistic. You'll see. It's only a matter of time before he reveals his true motive for joining us."

"Um...Katara, he has revealed his true motive for joining us. He wants to help Aang."

"Zuko doesn't help other people. He only helps himself."

"And how would you know that?'

Katara laughed without humor. "I've seen it," she said.

Toph tilted her head.

"When?" she asked.

Katara flicked her wrist and bent five servings of soup into the bowls. "Ba Sing Se," she said, "When he...when I tried to help and he turned and walked away from me."

"Really? The way he tells it, you were the one walking away from him."

Katara raised her head. "What?"

"He told me you were the one that walked away first."

Katara's hands curled into fists. "No. He walked away first. He had his chance and he turned away. He chose his honor and that...monster ...over doing the right thing!"

Toph sighed, blowing her growing bangs back away from her forehead.

"Fine," she conceded, "But that's not now. And don't you think that if I had any reason to believe he'd do something like that again, I'd bend him right off the edge of this cliff?"

Katara said nothing.

"He's a good guy," Toph went on, "A little high-strung, but good. You're holding onto your anger because you don't want to admit he's not the boy who chased you halfway across the world any more."

"But he is," Katara said, "He is that boy."

Toph shook her head. "No," she said, "He's not. But rather than argue with you, I suggest we cut this conversation short."

Katara was about to ask her why when she caught the sound of voices in the distance. The boys were returning. She busied herself finishing the remainder of the dinner tasks.

Moments later, the boys turned the corner and came into sight, their forms silhouettes against the setting sun. They greeted her boisterously, and she handed them their soup as they regaled her with tales of "warrior training" by the river, and subsequent bigger tales of "the platypus bear that got away."

"Sounds exciting," she said politely, "You must be starving."

And of course they were. She actually had to make a second pot of soup for them, and they continued laughing, talking and eating until the light faded, leaving only the flicker and dance of the campfire for illumination.

When the bowls were once again empty, contented silence settled over the small stone courtyard.

"Wow," Aang yawned, "Platypus bear-ing really takes a lot of you. I think I'm going to make it an early night."

"I think I second that," said Sokka, "Zuko?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." He picked up his soup bowl and stood. But instead of following right after the other two, he hesitated and looked at Katara.

"Actually...can I get the dishes for you before I go?"

Katara hid her surprise behind an impolite snicker.

"Princes do dishes?" she mocked, " My how times have changed."

The boy's expression darkened momentarily, before smoothing back into its usual state of calm indifference.

"Times have changed," he agreed, "Though unlike you, I'd like to think they've changed for the better." He walked over and retrieved the stack of dirty bowls in front of her. "I'll be back with these in a minute."

"I wait with bated breath," Katara muttered, and she felt a small trill of satisfaction when he paused just outside the ring of firelight to look back at her, his anger evident in the rigid line of his posture.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that and just add it to my list of odd ways you have of saying 'thank you,'" he said. Then, turning, he disappeared into the dark.

Sokka looked back and forth between Zuko's empty space and Katara's stormy expression.

"What's with you?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Katara turned away and said nothing.

...

Zuko took a long time coming back, and by the time he did, she was the only one left awake. More than ready to go to bed, she sat with her arms folded, scowling into the dark. The only reason she was waiting for him was to make sure that the bowls got put back in the right place. Boys never put anything back in the right place, and she had no desire to go searching all over the temple for crockery the next morning when it came time to cook breakfast.

When he did return, she was even shorter with him than normal.

"Where have you been?" she demanded, "You only had five bowls to wash!"

Zuko turned his back to her as he packed the clean bowls away in the correct bag.

"If you must know, I was doing a little practicing. I find bending to a good alternative to arguing." Turning around, he fixed her with a level gaze. "You should try it some time."

"Oh. Really. And why is that? Because I'm argumentative?"

"You certainly have that trait whenever I am concerned."

"Oh please! I argue with everyone. You're not special."

Something that could have been a smile tugged at Zuko's lips.

"Do you hear yourself when you talk?" he asked her, "Because sometimes you really don't make sense."

"What? I always make sense! Now give me my bowls!"

"I just put them away."

"Well...fine. Go to bed then! It's late."

"I'm not tired." Zuko settled himself down on the stone by the fire once more. "I think I'm going to sit out here a little while longer. Maybe meditate."

Effectively silenced, Katara could only stare at him for a moment before turning on her heel and making to leave.

Two steps later, however, she stopped again.

"You know, you waltz in here, all 'I've changed! I want to help the Avatar!' and just expect me to act like nothing ever happened. Except I don't believe you. I can't believe you."

Zuko sighed and turned to face her.

"I know," he said, "We've had this conversation many times."

"Maybe so, but you seem to not remember that I was there the last time. I got a nice, up-close-and-personal view of the 'new and improved Zuko'. And then you went on to make me look like a complete idiot in front of all those people, including your sister."

A long and heavy silence fell over the clearing.

Katara crossed her arms, waiting.

Zuko exhaled slowly.

"So" he said at last, "That's what this is about. Ba Sing Se." He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. "I guess Uncle was right when he said a demon hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"Well, we both always knew he was the smarter of the two of you."

Zuko shot her a dirty look.

"I made a bad decision that day," he said, ignoring the jibe, "I was being selfish, and I let that cloud my judgment. I'm sorry."

"Your sister almost killed Aang. You helped."

"I know." He looked away from her and drew a small squiggle in the stone dust by his knee. "But that's not the worst of it. You want to hear something really bad? I told myself when it was all over that I actually did Aang a favor by turning against the two of you. Because if you had used that water to heal me, Aang would be dead. But you didn't, so he's not. So in some way I did manage to do the right thing." He looked up at her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Pretty terrible, huh? File that away for when you run out of reasons to hate me."

Katara looked back at him, silent.

"It's ok though," he went on, "I saw Aang's back. Even Spirit Oasis water can't heal scars. Funny thing, destiny. Possibly the only thing more spiteful than a girl with hurt feelings."

Katara felt her cheeks flush.

"My feelings aren't hurt," she scoffed, "I just...I didn't realize that day might have been a bad one for you."

Zuko chuckled. "Surprise," he said dryly, "Human after all. Who knew."

Katara said nothing.

The silence stretched.

"Do you want to know how I got it?" Zuko asked suddenly, "I'll tell you if you want to know."

Katara's eyes narrowed. "Got what?" she asked.

"My scar. It's the result of being punished by my father."

Katara's eyes widened.

"What?" she whispered.

"My father did it. In a war meeting, I spoke out against sacrificing a battalion of new recruits...only it wasn't my place to speak and my father took it as a personal affront. He challenged me. I refused. He burned me to prove his point."

Katara's hand covered her mouth and she felt her heart constrict within her chest.

"Oh my gods and spirits," she breathed.

"Not many people outside the fire nation know the truth," he said. He looked away from her again, and she could almost feel his internal struggle. "It's not a secret, it's just...not something I like to talk about. I should have known then that he didn't love me. I don't know why I ever thought capturing Aang or helping Azula would change that."

"Because he's your father," she said automatically, "Because he's supposed to love you, not disfigure you!"

"Yeah, well, he was never that kind of father. He left the showing of affection to my mother, then took her away from me, too."

"I remember you telling me that," Katara said, "That...that same day. And I said all those awful things to you..."

"Yeah. I remember. We really don't have the best track record when it comes to getting along, do we?"

"Not really."

"Hm." A sad smile touched his lips. "It's too bad, really. Because I really respect you. You are a worthy opponent and you're very good at what you do."

"Oh!" Katara felt her flush deepen. "I...um...thanks."

Suddenly feeling very awkward, she smoothed her skirt.

"It's really late," she said, "We should get some sleep. You coming...er going...to bed?"

"No," he replied, "I really do need to meditate. You go ahead."

"Oh. Ok. Well...good night then."

"Goodnight, Katara."

Zuko folded his legs and turned his back to her, assuming a lotus position. Katara watched the rise and fall of his shoulders for a moment longer before turning and heading to her room.


	2. Part II: Build

I got a review

**I got a review! Thank you, Lucrezia6565 for your wonderful, insightful comments. They are very much appreciated.**

**As always, this 'verse does not belong to me, nor do the characters. No infringement intended to the show's creators or any other fandom authors.**

**I hope you all enjoy.**

Part II: Build

It continued in the sky, on the warm, sturdy back of Appa, with the ground falling away as they flew toward the horizon. Though she lacked an explanation for his presence, she was still too ashamed to ask for one, and so he dozed behind her, pale cheeks flushed red from the chilly altitude.

And when they landed a few hours later on the beach of an unnamed island, he said, "We should be there tomorrow."

She set down her pack where the grass met the sand. "Yeah," she mumbled, "We should."

He paused, holding the last tarp pole in his left hand.

"Have you changed your mind?" he asked, "Do you want to go back?"

"No," she said, "No, I'm just...tired I guess. "

"Tired. Right." The pole slid into place and he pulled on the edge of the canvas to even it out. "I guess you would be. We've been pushing really hard."

She grimaced, still unaccustomed to dealing with him in the plural.

"We have," she agreed, "But I'll be fine. No need to worry."

"I'm not."

Katara stopped and raised an eyebrow, a silent demand for him to explain himself.

He caught her look and sighed.

"I meant that I'm not worried about you not being fine. I know you'll be fine. That's all. Not that I'm not worried about you or your safety."

"Oh," she said, somewhat mollified, "Well, when you put it that way I guess it doesn't sound quite so rude. We should eat. You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"If you start the fire, I'll get the food."

"All right."

She shrugged off her black cloak and walked over to Appa's saddle, listening to the sounds of Zuko readying a fire pit behind her. In the saddlebags were their week's supply of cured meats and dried fruit. She took enough for two and then joined him next to the crackling flames.

"Thank you," he said as she handed him his share.

"You're welcome," she returned. She tossed a dried piece of papaya out of her fruit mixture, and then noticed he was looking at her with a strange expression on his face.

"What?" she asked.

"You said you're welcome," he said.

"Yes? And? Isn't that what you do when someone says thank you?"

"Under ordinary circumstances. But you never say it to me."

Katara stiffened. "I say you're welcome," she huffed, "I say it all the time!"

"No, you say 'sure' or 'fine' or 'you're welcome Little Lord Jerkbender.' You never just say it outright."

Katara felt her face heat up. "That's not true," she said, "I don't treat you like that!"

Zuko looked at her, expression unreadable. "You do," he said, "But since you're apparently not treating me like that tonight, there's something I wanted to ask you."

"What?"

Zuko tore off a piece of dried meat and chewed for a moment before he spoke again. "I wanted to ask you about the captain."

Katara flicked another piece of papaya out of her fruit pile with a nonchalance she didn't feel. "What about him?"

"You did something to him," Zuko said, "You made him fall without touching him. You made him look at you."

"Yes."

"How?"

Katara folded her hands around her rations, appetite suddenly gone.

"It's called bloodbending," she said, "It's...something I can only do under the full moon."

"Bloodbending? You mean using what you can do to control someone else's body?"

Katara nodded. "I don't...like to do it," she said, "And I shouldn't have done it this time. I don't know what came over me. I guess when I thought he was the man, I just wanted to make him feel what it's like to be helpless. What it's like to look on while someone else holds all the cards." Her voice trembled and looked down at the sand. "I wanted to make him feel how I felt the day he took my mother."

"So you reached inside him."

Katara squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back an inner wave of hot shame.

"I did," she said, "I reached inside him and forced him to do what he didn't want to do. It was wrong of me. I know that."

"It was scary," Zuko said, "I've never seen you that intense. I've faced you angry..."

"But you've never faced me murderous," she finished for him. "Don't worry. You can say it. You saw a murderer last night. You saw a terrible, cold-blooded killer."

"Actually, what I saw was a terribly frightened little girl."

Katara's head shot up. Angry words bubbled onto her tongue, but Zuko held up his hand, silencing her before they could be unleashed.

"I'm not calling you a little girl," he said, "I'm saying that I saw the little girl in you. The one that's never gotten over the death of her mother. I saw the part of you that needs this closure."

Katara eyed him for a moment, then exhaled, letting her anger slip away with the ebbing tide.

"You know, you really should learn how to talk to people without sounding like an uppity jerk," she told him, "It would really make conversations go much smoother."

"Yeah well, I've never been good with words," he said.

"Obviously. But you could try."

"I could." He eyed the large chunk of papaya resting in her hand. "You going to eat that?"

"Be my guest," she said.

He plucked the offensive fruit out of her remaining portion.

"Thanks," he said.

"You're welcome," she replied.

Zuko paused, and though his facial expression didn't change, the lilt in his voice gave away his amusement. "That's twice," he said, "One more and I might actually start believing you don't hate me after all."

Katara felt her cheeks go red.

"Oh hush," she growled, and beaned him off the nose with a raisin.

...

When the meal was finished, and the fire had burnt itself to ash, they moved up the beach to their bedrolls under the tarp. They settled in in semi-awkward silence, Katara making sure to leave a safe and chaste distance of sand between them as she crawled inside her sleeping bag. Across from her, Zuko did the same, facing away from her as he lay down.

Appa growled once, as if to bid them goodnight.

Katara laid her head against her makeshift pillow and watched the line of Zuko's back.

"Hey Zuko?" she whispered.

"What?" he asked.

"What happened to your mother?"

The back in question stiffened. He didn't turn to look at her when he answered.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because…"

"Because you're curious or because you're suspicious?"

Katara curled her fingers around the edge of her sleeping bag.

"Curious," she said, "Just curious. Honest."

There was a long pause.

"I don't know," he said at last, "All I know is there's a chance she could still be alive. My father told me that much."

"Oh! Well…that's good news, isn't it?"

There was another long pause.

"I guess," he said at length.

Katara pulled the blanket up to her chin.

"Are you going to try and find her? When the war is over, I mean?"

"Maybe," he said, "Depends."

"On what?"

"On the outcome. On whether or not we live to see victory."

His words sent a chill through Katara's blood.

"Are you saying you doubt Aang?" she asked, "Are you saying you don't think we can win?"

"I'm saying that I know what we're up against. I know the dangers and they are very real. Your optimism is one of the good things about you, but sometimes it blinds you to the truth."

Katara felt a twinge of hurt. "Well excuse me for wanting to believe," she retorted without conviction, "After all this war has put me through, I'd rather not dwell on the worst-case scenario."

"None of us would." Zuko rolled to face her, eyes dark in the faint starlight, "But coming from a family that's caused one hundred years of bloodshed, it's hard to blindly believe in happily ever after."

Katara swallowed. Zuko looked at her a moment longer before averting his eyes.

"I hope you find what you're looking for tomorrow," he said, "I hope you can at last feel at peace with what's been haunting you, and that you can accept my assistance as my way of saying I'm sorry for betraying you in Ba Sing Se."

"How about for chasing me all over the world?"

"That, too."

"And for trying to burn me the day we cornered Azula?"

"Yeah."

"And the North Pole?"

There was silence. Then, "No. Not the North Pole."

Katara gasped and opened her mouth to retort, but stopped when she realized he was laughing.

"I won the North Pole," he said.

Her own lips twitched. "Not from where I was standing."

"Things look different from the top of the glacier. Your view must have been skewed."

Katara paused, then laughed outright.

"You're still a jerk," she said, giggling, "But I guess since you asked so nicely, I can let all that stuff go."

"You should. It will be easier if we go into this tomorrow as friends and not enemies."

"I know." She slid her hands up under her pillow. "Truce?"

"Truce."

Katara smiled. Zuko buried himself in his blankets.

"I never hated you by the way," she said, "I was angry with you yes, but I never hated you."

Zuko's nose peeked out from beneath the blanket. "Really?"

"Really. For some reason, I could never stop myself from believing that underneath that flawed exterior there might be a decent, if misguided, person."

The rest of Zuko's face appeared. He didn't say anything for a long time, but when he did, Katara felt his words touch her heart.

"Thank you," he whispered, voice raw.

Katara nodded, feeling something new and warm spread through her veins.

"You're welcome."


	3. Part III: Break

**Thank you all so much for the support. This is the final act. I hope you enjoy.**

**Characters and universe are not mine. No infringement intended to the creators or any other authors.**

**Part III: Break**

It ended in a field with an old man on his knees. With her resolve failing, and the ice turning to rain, and her walking away, unable to finish what she started. With him standing beside her, watching without words, his presence a silent testament to his promise of friendship.

With her suddenly realizing he understood her far better than she'd ever given him credit for.

When they reached the beach, she turned and faced him, shaking all over with repressed emotion, and said, "That wasn't what it was supposed to be like."

"I know," he said, "It's ok."

Her hands clenched into fists. " It's not ok," she said, "He wasn't supposed to be weak!"

"People who kill innocent people are never strong."

"So why couldn't I do it?" She leaned towards him, grabbing the black fabric of his shirt. "I couldn't kill him. I didn't even want to. He was weak! He was old, and empty, and weak." The tears came unbidden as she pressed her face into his chest.

His voice smoothed past her ear as warm hands encircled her back. "It's ok," he whispered.

"But it's not. I failed."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"You didn't fail, Katara."

"Then what would you call it?"

She looked up at him, accusing and angry.

He looked back, unflinching.

"You did not fail," he said, "Take it from someone whose failed enough times to know what it looks like."

The firmness in his tone made her drop her eyes again, and her fingers slowly unwound themselves from his shirt. He let her step away.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't worry about it."

"But you didn't deserve that."

"I said don't worry about it. Are you ready to go?"

Katara looked out over the ocean.

"Yes," she said, "But I don't want to go back. I...I'm not ready to talk to anyone. I'm not ready to explain."

"I'll take you wherever you want," he said without hesitation.

She glanced over, and was surprised when a slight flush stained his cheeks.

"That is...if you want to me to," he added, "If you don't, I'll just... I know somewhere safe I can drop you off while I go get the others."

Katara wiped her eyes. "No," she said, "I don't want to be alone."

"Are you sure? You said you weren't ready to talk."

She offered him a watery smile.

"I didn't mean to _you_."

For a long moment, Zuko just stared at her, eyes alive with emotions she couldn't put a name to. All traces of his usual stoicism were gone, leaving behind a vulnerability that, up until now, his words and actions had only hinted at.

Unnerved, Katara cleared her throat.

"So I guess since you know where we're going, you should drive, huh?"

Zuko blinked. "What?"

"Since you know our destination, I think you should drive."

"Oh." Zuko looked up at the empty space between Appa's horns. "I guess so. Is there...uh...anything I should know about controlling a ten-ton flying bison?"

"Just don't pull the reins too hard," Katara said, "Appa has sensitive horns."

"Sensitive horns. Right." Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. "Well ok then." He walked toward Appa's head. Katara watched him climb up and settle himself cross-legged in the soft fur before climbing up herself and arranging herself in the saddle. Appa snorted.

Zuko took up the reins.

"Um...now what?" he asked, and he sounded so at loss, Katara couldn't help but giggle.

"Now you say, 'yip yip," she told him.

"Yip Yip?" Zuko questioned.

Appa lurched beneath them. Zuko wobbled, but managed to right himself as Appa began a steady ascent into the sky.

Katara smiled and closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the feel of the wind on her skin.

...

Hours later, they touched down on the sand in front of what looked to be a building of some sort, though it was hard to tell in the failing light. Katara followed him up a long flight of steps and watched as he brushed aside the cobwebs that covered the splintered door.

"Here we are," he said.

She looked down the hallway from over his shoulder.

"What happened to the door?" she asked.

Zuko made a sound that could have been a laugh. "Long story," he said, "Come on."

They stepped over the boards and moved down a long corridor, eventually emerging in an open courtyard.

"My uncle once told me that one of the most underrated military strategies was hiding in plain sight," he said, walking toward the center of the space, "So here we are. Hiding in plain sight."

"I don't understand," Katara said.

"This is my family's beach house," he explained, "We haven't used it in years. My father, as you can see, likes to ignore it."

"Wait...you took me to your _father's house_?" Katara put her hands on her hips and eyed the older boy in front of her. "_This_ was your great idea?"

"I thought you might want to be comfortable. Not sleep on the hard ground after the day you've had. My mother's bedroom...faces the ocean. I'm sure we could find some clean sheets for the bed."

Sadness laced his words. Katara dropped her arms and walked over.

"I'm sorry," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, "I was only teasing. This is a really great idea. And I'd love to spend the night in a bed."

Zuko nodded, but didn't look at her. "I'll go fix it up for you then."

"I'll help you."

"No!"

She drew back.

Zuko brushed his hair off his forehead. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to yell. But you _are _my guest. It's only right I prepare your room for you."

"Zuko, it's no big deal. I make my own bed all the time..."

"I know." He looked down at the ground beneath his feet. "But this is my _mother's_ bed. Not yours."

The meaning of his words hit Katara full force in the chest.

"Oh," she whispered.

"You've had your chance to make your peace today, let me have a few minutes to make mine."

Without looking at her, he began walking back towards the house. Katara watched him go until his figure disappeared amongst the shadows of the darkened building.

She gave him until the moon rose before she went to find him.

...

He was sitting on the floor next to the bed, chin on his knees, fingers locked around a gauzy piece of red fabric.

"Hi," she said. "I thought maybe you might need some help after all."

Zuko didn't move. She sat down next to him.

"She loves you," she said, "I'm sure that wherever she is, she's thinking about you. I know this never should have happened to either of us. But if this war has taught us anything, it's that love is strong. Love is powerful and we can't let ourselves be overcome by despair when we have love."

He continued to stare straight ahead.

She reached out and touched his arm.

He flinched.

She didn't let go.

He sighed.

"Did it help?" he asked, "Facing down the man who did it?"

"Some. Not as much as I had hoped."

"Do you think it would help me?"

"I don't know."

His titled his head, eyes meeting hers. "Do you think I should try?"

Katara felt something strange and inexplicable uncoil inside her. She shivered.

"No," she said, "I don't."

"Why not?"

"Because I couldn't stand it if he hurt you again."

Zuko's head came fully up. Katara bit her lip, watching the emotions play across his face. For a long time, he remained silent, just looking at her. Then, he stood.

"I should finish up here," he said, "I can tell you're tired and I've taken way too long already."

"It's all right," Katara said, pushing herself to her feet, "Although if you let me help, it will go faster."

Zuko hesitated, then handed her one corner of the sheet. "Make sure to tuck the corners in tightly or the silk will slip."

Katara nodded and together they spread the red sheets across the bed, smoothing the creased edges into place and folding back the top where it met the pillows.

"There," he said when they finished, "Your bed is ready."

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," he replied.

He turned to leave.

On impulse, Katara grabbed his sleeve.

Zuko looked back.

"I...I just wanted to say that I'm glad it was you today. With me. You...you're a really good friend, and I should never have wasted all that time being mad at you."

Zuko shrugged. "It's all right. You had your reasons."

"I know. But...you did all this for me. And all I ever did for you was make your life more difficult."

Zuko regarded her with a neutral expression as he removed his sleeve from her grasp.

"It's late," he said, "I should go."

"Right," Katara sighed, "Of course."

"I'll see you in the morning," he said, and moved toward the door. But before stepping into the darkened hallway, he paused again.

"Hey Katara?"

"Yes?"

He looked at her, a faint but happy smile gracing his lips.

"It was worth it," he said, "Everything you put me through...it was worth it to have today."

Then, with a little bow, he stepped backwards out of the room.

Stunned, Katara could only stand there, staring after him as his footfalls faded away.

Outside, the ocean's waves crashed against the rocky shore.

Inside, Katara dug her fingers into the edge of the matress and felt something inside her break.


End file.
